Hey guys-

Updating Monday, 2:48 AM. I am updating later today as well.

Without further adieu, I present to you...

P A N I C 

*TRIGGER WARNING. SENSITIVE MATERIAL. MENTIONS OF R*PE AND ASS*ULT*

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED DUE TO SENSITIVE MATERIAL

zeno berkshire

She's asleep in my arms. Dozed off as she continued apologizing for being so nosy and budging in my past. I assured her multiple times that it was okay, and that she was only curious. She has every right to be curious given that things were already suspicious. I lay next to her with a heavy heart and dampened lids. 

The first part of healing from trauma is accepting it. Acknowledging that it happened. Taking charge of it all. Coming to terms with it rather than ignoring it and telling myself that it didn't happen. Continuously telling myself that it didn't happen, and that I initiated everything was a mistake. It not only scarred me for the rest of my bloody life, but it resulted in the actions I do now. 

I was raped. On multiple occasions. Sexually coerced multiple times. Pressured. Threatened.

I was raped.

Sexually assaulted. Multiple times. And I did nothing about it. Not a thing.

Up until I left. I left and never looked back. I managed to shove her down to the ground, though it felt like it wasn't enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

I choked her. I choked Eleanor. And yet why do I always end up with guilt? Why do I always end up with a guilty-ridden conscience? She raped me! Eleanor Farrell raped me MULTIPLE TIMES! And yet I'm the guilty one? 

She's a woman, Xenophilius. You don't ever put your hands on a woman like that.

But why is that she gets to walk around with confidence and pip even after raping me? 

Equal treatment? Right?

No. No, Xenophilius. She's a woman. Your mother would be ashamed. 

But your father would call you brave for standing up for yourself. 

No. You don't ever put your hands on a woman like that. 

I find myself defending her every time I want to hurt her. Why is that? I'm wired to respect women at all time, but why is it that I'm wired to respect a woman who raped me? Coerced me? Harassed me? 

Don't feel bad for her, Zeno.

Feel bad for her, Zeno.

No, don't feel bad for her. She raped you.

Feel bad for her, Zeno. You choked her. She couldn't breathe.

No, don't feel bad. Because of her, you find it hard to breathe when you're in large crowds. 

Feel bad for her, Zeno. There are red marks on her neck. And it's your fault. She's hurt because it's your fault. You put your hands on a woman and she's in pain because it's your fault. It's your fault.

Your own rape was your fault, Xenophilius. You should've kept saying no. She would've listened. You should've left her the moment she raped you. It's your fault. You did this to yourself. And you hurt her neck. 

"Shut up!"  I say to myself.

I jolt from the mattress as my heart heavily palpitates. I pace the room back and forth as my world slowly closes in. I'm finding it hard to breathe. I'm finding it hard to breathe.

You deserve this. You choked her. You choked her. You choked her. You deserve this.

No, you don't. Relax, Xenophilius. You don't deserve this. She raped you. Say it. Acknowledge it. You had every right. You had every right to hurt her. A choke and a shove will never compensate for the emotional and mental deterioration she's caused you. The pain she's caused you. The man she unacceptably formed. 

"Please, just shut up!" I say to myself once more. I collapse onto the ground and ball my hair into my fists as my chest rises and falls repetitively. I quickly glance through the dark to see if Mel is still asleep.

 She's sound asleep. 

Thank God. 

She's sound asleep while I'm having a goddamn fucking panic attack on the goddamn ground. I don't want Mel to see me like this. I don't want Mel to wake up to see me crumbling in the middle of this dark room. I want her asleep. Peacefully. Shit, I love her so much. Fuck.

I'll be back in bed, Mel. I just need to calm down.

Calm down, Zeno.

You choked her. And her eyes watered. Her eyes were filled with fear.

But she raped you. She had sex with you even after you said no. Even after you said you weren't in the mood. Even after you would cry while coming. Your body rejected you and you came. And she took that as consent. She took you coming as consent. She raped you. She raped you. 

You choked her. She was afraid of you. You put your hands on a woman. Your mother would never forgive you. 

It's getting harder to breathe. I'm starting to sweat. My hands are getting clammy.

I hug my legs close to my chest as I deep breathe in and exhale. 

Calm down.

Calm down.

Calm down.

You hurt her.

Calm down.

Calm down.

Calm down.

She raped you.

Calm down.

Calm down.

Calm-.

"Zeno?" Oliver harshly whispered, "What are you doing on the floor?"

I glance over at Oliver through the darkness as I try my best to focus on his face. As I gain focus, worrisome and confusion altogether is plastered onto his face. 

"Nothing," I stammer. I gulp and pull my legs closer to my chest. "Go back to sl-."

"Shut up," he says lowly, "I hate when you lie to me."

Oliver gets up from his bed and immediately comes down to the ground with me. He scoots next to me and pulls me into his arms. I hesitate, but eventually give in. 

Just let him hug you, Zeno. Just let him hug you.

"Just breathe in and out slowly, alright?" Oliver said softly. "Do you want me to wake Mel up?"

"No," I respond immediately, "Don't-. Please don't wake her up-."

"Okay, okay," he defended, "I won't."

Oliver rubs my back as I try to ground myself back into calmness. My heart is still pounding as each pulse in my body thumps harder. 

"You haven't panicked this bad in months," Oliver said quietly, "You were doing so well. Is everything alright? You and Mel okay?"

"Yeah," I say flatly, "Mel and I-. We're okay-. It just-. I just-. It came out of n-."

"Okay, Zeno," he calmly interrupts, "I apologize for asking. It's okay. I don't need an explanation."

Silence emitted as my breathing centered back down to earth. My heart rate soon normalized as my hands stopped clamming. I could breathe again. Oliver's reassurance never failed to calm me down.

"I stopped taking Lexapro," I broke the silence. "I didn't like how it made me feel."

LEXAPRO

Lexapro (escitalopram) is an antidepressant in a group of drugs called selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs). Escitalopram affects chemicals in the brain that may be unbalanced in people with depression or anxiety. Lexapro is used to treat anxiety in adults.

Oliver sighed as he gently pulled away. Through the dark, his worried eyes gazed into mine as he nibbled the bottom of his lip out of nervousness. 

"Mate," he spoke, "The family doctor back home told you not to stop taking them. Remember?"

"Muggles don't know what they're talking about-."

"Zeno," he interrupted sternly, "This is a family doctor who has been taking care of us since we were toddlers. Since our family moved us all to the muggle world. He knows what he's talking about."

I shake my head. "I don't like them, Oliver."

"Zeno-."

"I don't fucking like them. I'm not fucking taking them anymore."

Oliver stayed put. Instead, he patted my back and huffed. We sat on the ground a couple minutes more. Oliver accompanied me while I grew tired.

"Love you, mate," Oliver blurted.

"Love you."

Silence.

"We've got a couple more weeks until winter break," Oliver jeered, "You excited?"

The thought of snow bustling down to the ground and the smell of cinnamon and peppermint made me feel warm and fuzzy. Absently, a grin appeared across my face, which Oliver took notice.

"A little excited," I responded through my subtle smile, "I'm thinking about apparating Amelie around Europe. Make memories and such."

"Just take the private jet and live the muggle life," Oliver suggested. I rolled my eyes as he softly chuckled.

"Nah," I remarked, "My father wouldn't want me using our private jet-."

"Why not?" 

"Do you remember when we all went to Cancun?" I softly chuckled as the memory surfaced, "I threw up due to the turbulence, remember?"

Oliver quietly groaned as he scrunched his eyes closed. "Fucking hell. How old were you? 12? 13? Disgusting little prick."

I lightly shoved him as he toppled over, which made the both of us laugh a little harder. I shushed him through my laughing as he struggled to keep himself together.

"It wasn't-." *laugh*  "My fault-." *laugh* "That I have a sensitive stomach-."

"My father literally despised you throughout the whole ride," Oliver snorted, "My mum had to assure him that you're just a young boy with a sensitive stomach, and not an inconsiderate grown man who can handle turbulence."

"Uncle Draco's a wank sometimes-."

"He's got an attitude, I can agree with you on that," Oliver chuckled. 

We laughed out of nowhere, then stayed quiet. Stared at each other, laughed a little more. Stayed quiet.

"Was that the same trip where Mel and Scarlett dared you to steal my dad's Bloody Mary?" I queried.

"No, that was Australia," Oliver laughed.

"Right!" I chimed.

We laughed once more through reminiscing about the good old times. 

"Mel's dad gave me a high five, y'know," Oliver smirked. "Called me a bold champ when I chugged the whole thing. Said that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and all."

"Because it doesn't," I preened, "Your father drinks bourbon for fucking breakfast sometimes."

"Sometimes," Oliver emphasized, "At least my father doesn't drink weird prissy teas without milk-."

"Hey!" I blurted, "Tea is amazing for you. It's good for your health, too. It replenishes your spirit, as well. You should try it one day. Keeps you calm and collected. Y'know, my favorite tea is-."

"Chamomile?" Oliver interrupted. He rolled his eyes as I softly laughed again. Seems like I talk a lot about it. "You glorify tea just like your mum. Like Aunt Luna."

"So what? My mum knows what she's talking about."

"Luna-tic," he giggled. 

"Oh, shut it," I retorted through a smile.

"I mean, you've got to admit-." *laugh*  "That nickname's pretty funny-."

"It's mean!" I responded.

He stared at me while attempting to contain a laugh, but we both ended up bursting of laughter to the point where we couldn't breathe. 

If I ever felt like suffocating, I'd rather be it this way than a panic attack. I'd rather be sharing a hard laugh with Oliver Malfoy.

The both of us kept shushing each other in respect for Mel's sleep, but we ended up unsuccessful because Oliver turns pink as fuck. A vein appears across his forehead due to the intense laughing, which only makes me laugh even harder. At this rate, the both of us are dying of laughter; on the ground, in the dark, feeling lightheaded and woozy.

"Are you guys alright?" Mel mumbled. Oliver and I glanced at each other out of anxiousness as we both sit up frantically. We turn our heads to Mel to see her rubbing her eye, sitting up on my four post.

"Yes," we respond in unison.

"Seems like you guys are having a good-." *yawn*  "Time."

"Indeed, we are," I responded through a smirk.

"Don't mind us," Oliver added, "Sorry for waking you."

"Well, no need apologize, really," she responded groggily, "Just glad you're all happy."

Immediately, she falls back into bed and wraps herself in my blanket. I look back at Oliver as he giggles again. I roll my eyes and laugh a little bit more. We both eventually lay on the grown, about 2 feet away from each other. I rest my head against my arms and stare up at the ceiling. Calm and collected. Happy, even.

"Winter break is calling my fucking name," Oliver chimed, "And it's calling yours, too."

Silence.

"School brings so much stress. I've noticed that you mostly get your panic attacks during the school year. We have one more year and we're out, Zeno."

"Amen to that," I responded flatly. "What are your plans after Hogwarts? You going to work in the Ministry with your father? A&E Nurse like your mum?"

"Ah, I dunno," Oliver sighed, "Maybe move to Japan. Get a muggle job there? My mum brings in the muggle money, while my father brings in the galleons. Muggle jobs bring good money in. I wouldn't mind working a muggle job. What about you?"

I huffed as I removed my arms from under my head and crossed them across my chest. "Both my parents have muggle jobs, and given the fact that we're very financially stable in both currencies, I wouldn't mind a muggle job, either. A teacher, maybe."

"Teacher?" Oliver queried, "Why a teacher?"

"I don't want kids of my own," I responded, "But I do enjoy being around them. Helping them would be nice."

"Ah," Oliver beckoned. "Do you know what Mel wants to do?"

"She wants to be a teacher, too," I replied, "I'm thinking about waiting for her to finish school, and then maybe we could both move somewhere together. Start our careers together."

"Charlotte wants to be a Healer," Oliver jeered, "I'm currently encouraging her to do so. She does assistance at the Hospital Wing."

"Oh, does she?"

"Mhm," Oliver sighed, "We roleplay in the bedroom. She pretends I'm sick and she heals me with her pus-."

"Fucking christ, Oliver," I groaned, "Stop-. Just stop that. You're oversharing."

"Sorry," Oliver mumbled.

Silence.

"I'm going to head back to sleep," I said.

"Me, too."

We both got up from the ground and huffed out of breath.

"Thank you," I stated, "For-. For comforting me."

Oliver smiled. "Of course, Zeno. You're like my brother."

We both went back to our four posts. I nuzzled next to Mel as she autonomously wrapped her arms around me. Her intoxicating smell wafted into my senses as I melted onto my own comforting mattress. 

"Good night, my love," I whispered as I kissed her head. She made a little mumble noise as she nuzzled her head into my chest. Even though her thick hair got into my mouth every now and then, and her heavy head made me lose blood circulation to my arm, I'd rather have it this way than no Mel in my arms at all.

And so I slept. Safe and sound.

***

WINTER BREAK IS COMING REALLLLLL SOON. Stay tuned! 

Also! I created an Instagram account! follow me on IG @yerawizarddood and on tiktok, too! same as my IG username. I go live and talk to my readers. I also spill some spoilers every now and then, as well as answer questions.

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